The Baton Pass
by Punzie the Platypus
Summary: The day before Santos's Inauguration, Sam visits the White House to see his new office—Toby's old office. Will drops in and they reminisce over former days. Will then wonders about Sam's current relationship with Ainsley Hayes, and how Sam makes it work the same way Will wants to make it work with himself and Kate Harper and the Oregon 4th.


**_Soli Deo Gloria_**

**DISCLAIMER: I do NOT own West Wing.**

**I finally finished West Wing. I think it is up there as one of my favorite TV shows of all time. **

**Towards the end I started seeing the similarities between Will and Sam. They were always there, but became more and more apparent the further the story progressed. Thus, this fic was born. :)**

**EDIT: kcat1971 has graciously pointed out that Sam is the Deputy Chief of Staff now, not the Communications Director. I just totally blanked on that and I shouldn't write things at 11 PM anymore; I realize that fixing that error would require a lot of significant rewriting, so while I acknowledge that it was a mistake, we're gonna roll with it for now. My bad!**

"I thought you guys weren't moving in until tomorrow," Will Bailey said jokingly when he found Sam Seaborn, stuck in some amazed daze, sitting in his chair. "I heard the head usher announcing it to his staff of minions—at the stroke of high noon, the sun sets on the Bartlet empire and the movers come to shove us out of the present and into the history books. That kind of thing."

"I know, I know. I haven't brought in any supplies or personal possessions, if that settles your soul at all," Sam said. He leaned back in the swivel chair to the desk of the office of the White House Communications Director. He passed a hand across his mouth and chin, still taking it all in. This office once held his fearsome, passionate boss—Toby Ziegler. How could the Bartlet Administration run without him? Sam couldn't count the times he relied on Toby's unique point of view and hammering voice to fill in cracks and bring life to mere words on a page. He'd felt that same pit in his stomach everyone else on the old team felt when they found out the source of the space shuttle leak. He still couldn't believe that Toby Ziegler would betray Jed Bartlet like that—would betray _them_.

"It does little to silence the rankling, but as I am not in a position to complain, I'll suffer like a martyr 'til the end," Will said cheerfully, falling haphazardly into the comfy sofa otherwise covered in case boxes. His smile disappeared as he took in Sam and how his eyes hungrily ate up the room; "How's it feel to be back?"

"Like I'm in the wrong place. Like I'm intruding on Toby's turf when my spot is next door," Sam confessed.

"Next door is Charlie's office, soon to be somebody whose name I don't know's office," Will said.

"Charlie." Sam said the name fondly. Remembered how he was a new face to the old ensemble somehow running the Bartlet administration, and how now the kid had moved on up and was now moving on out, just as Sam was coming in. "It feels so odd to be coming back when everyone else has left."

"I understand that," Will said. "I was the new kid in your glory days. We didn't even work together here."

"I know, but I trusted you as someone to pass the baton on to," Sam said. He put his feet up on the desk; not a Sam Seaborn move, but as an ode to his old mentor, who did it all the time. He smiled, his hand against his chin and cheek. "Those were the glory days, though. The O.G. team. Leo as Chief of Staff, Josh as Deputy, Toby as the Communications Director—"

"As opposed to either of us," Will added.

"I was Deputy. C.J. was Press Secretary—"

"A role this entire team is indebted to her for—"

"Oh, don't think I don't know that. There were some days when she wasn't at that podium and we paid dearly for it." Sam's eyes took on a distant look. He felt older as much as he looked older—a different haircut, older men's glasses, more frowns and a quieter spirit—he felt older for he remembered those days as a soldier remembered his comrades in the days of battle. How they stuck to their guns and fought with every breath and while they hazed each other mercilessly, they were as brothers and sister in this White House.

He was the first to leave, and now he was back. C.J. was the only one who stuck by their President's side these eight long years in office. He was back with Josh, the two deputies finally getting promoted. Toby was gone, and Leo . . . Sam looked off to the hall leading to the Chief of Staff's Office. He'd missed the funeral. How he regretted not being there with all who loved Leo most.

Will regarded Sam and wished he wouldn't look so melancholy and lost. "You're in the right place."

"Thank you. It just—it feels weird."

"Is it so wrong for the world to move on? For the earth to spin around the sun again and for new life to come after well-finished endings? It's the start of a new chapter, Sam. Bartlet wrote an amazing book. You're just starring in a new story now."

Sam nodded and opened a desk drawer; the only thing left was an old familiar sight. He didn't _quite _choke up as he held Toby's old stress ball, but his eyes were glazed over as he said, "Some things never change, do they?"

Will cocked his head to the side. "No, they don't."

Sam bounced it against the wall, leaning so far back in the swivel chair that it could snap in half at any second. Will watched him for a moment before he said, "How did I convince you to run for Congress?"

"That's an answer you should know," Sam joked. But he thought for a second and said, "The same way Josh convinced me to come back. You persuaded me with your belief that it was the right thing."

"I'm sorry that you lost," Will said earnestly.

Sam gave him a half-teasing look. "A liberal Democrat in a traditionally Conservative district. Maybe if you stayed on as manager for the _entirety _of the campaign, I would've won."

"I had it in the bag for you. Need I remind you for the hundredth time that my candidate _died_ and he still managed to get it?"

"That's a fact that doesn't stand repeating for the one-hundredth-and-first time. Also, are you suggesting that if I died, I would be a more viable candidate for the California Forty-Seventh?"

Will waved a hand. "Historical statistics would tell us as much."

Sam waved a hand back. "It's okay. I'm back where I belong, anyway. Making inspiring speeches reeking of pure idealism about how grand and wonderful we Democrats can make America."

"Hear hear," Will said. A beat passed before he said, "I'm going to run for the Oregon Fourth's congressional seat."

Sam squinted for a second. "Isn't that John Heffinger's seat?"

"Only for the past fifteen years."

Sam let out a low whistle. "He's deep-seated. You'd have to fight him tooth-and-nail."

"I'm ready. I could never get eight hours of sleep a night anyway."

"Are you going to be your own campaign manager? 'Cause if so, I believe you could stand a fair chance."

"I'm going to get my stepsister Elsie back into the game. We don't spend as much time together as we used to. It'll be nice directing college volunteers and drinking eight cups of coffee a day with her again."

"Sounds like you have a plan. Which involves leaving California and establishing immediate residency in Oregon, presumably?"

"You presume correctly." Will picked at the armrest of the sofa chair. He peered over at Sam and said, "Sam, can I ask you some questions of a personal nature? They're not just for the sake of idle curiosity; they'll have a point to them."

Sam shrugged. "Sure."

"You're engaged to Ainsley Hayes, are you not?"

Sam blinked. "Yes I am."

"She was a Republican, yet you worked together in the White House and managed to take up a relationship after that?"

Sam removed his glasses. "It took a while, but yes. She moved out to California and we ended up working for the same law firm. After we started dating, she went to work at the Hoover Institute in an effort to keep up with politics again, but she hated it. I didn't tell Josh this, but part of the reason I said 'yes' to him was because Ainsley put in for a counsel job for the Santos' White House Administration."

Will looked surprised. "I haven't heard—did she get it?"

Sam looked quietly proud. "Oliver Babish is the Attorney General. Somebody had to be the White House Counsel."

Will wore a pleased smile. "That's wonderful to hear."

"She never liked California. Not really. She's an East Coast girl. I could only make the move for Josh when I realized that the both of us wanted to go back to D.C. It's cutthroat politics, but it's home."

"So, did it bother you that she was a Republican?" Will ventured.

"Oh, a hundred times in a thousand different ways. I can't tell you how many debates we've had over numerous issues. I've tried converting her a hundred times, but . . . she knows her own mind."

"So, no irreconcilable differences, then?"

"We can stand each other on some things, but on others we agree to disagree. We have a lot more that we agree about than we argue about, at least. That's why I'm not dreading the next forty years of married life," Sam said breezily. "Will, these are awfully specific questions."

"I said I had a reasonable conclusion for it," Will said. He leaned back and said, "As you may or may not know, I have a thing with Kate Harper."

"Oh, I know," Sam said. "Not that it's any of my business, but I know. The same way that I knew that Josh and Donna were gonna be a thing before either of them decided to grow up and act on it. It's just obvious, sometimes."

"They took a long time for that, by the way," Will said. "To the point where I think Donna flirted with _me _once or twice."

"Oh, she's flirted with me once or twice too. It was never us, though. What other way could you get Josh Lyman to think of you as a flesh-and-blood woman than to make him jealous, even if he'd never admit it?" Sam said.

"Oh, now I don't feel so special," Will teased.

"Poor Donna, liking such a thick-headed guy like Josh," Sam said with a shrug. "Thank God those two finally got their heads screwed on right."

Will backtracked to their former subject of conversation. "Did you convince Ainsley to move to California with you or did she follow you of her own accord?"

"I don't believe I've ever made Ainsley Hayes do a single thing in her life that she did not make the conscious choice to do herself," Sam said. "I didn't ask her nor do I believe she followed me across the country like a lovesick puppy. I think that it just worked out that way, really." He regarded Will and why he'd ask this and he said, "Do you _want _Kate to follow you to the West Coast like a lovesick puppy?"

"No, I don't need my ego stroked _that _badly. I'm just wondering if I _should_."

"Should what? Ask? Why not? Is she your girlfriend or not?" Sam wondered.

Will wiggled his fingers like a scale that wouldn't quite tip in either direction. "I can't tell if we're on-again-off-again or just friends with benefits. I _have _asked her, but she dodged the question. I think she was annoyed at the time because she just found out that she wouldn't be remaining on with the Santos Administration."

"I think you should ask her again. You're both moving on from the same place. Maybe you're moving on in different directions, but if you don't ask, you'll never know," Sam said.

"All right." Will smiled. "I think I was correct when I decided to ask the new Communications Director about what to do. Obviously, the answer was 'communicate', but it's nice to have a second opinion against my own anxious thoughts."

"You didn't have much of a sounding board here, did you?" Sam said sympathetically.

Will held out his hands helplessly. "I had no deputy. I was a Toby without a Sam." He shrugged. "We don't have a lot of deputies around here anymore. As you would probably appreciate, they should never be taken for granted."

"Thank you." Sam's words were quiet.

Will inhaled and said, "Well, it's time for your interrogation's final conclusion." He leaned forward off the edge of the seat, his palms pressed together. "You and Ainsley somehow made it work. Do you think, if we tried, that Kate and I have a chance?"

Sam smiled broadly. He wondered if this was what President Bartlet and Leo and Toby used to feel when he and Josh came to them for advice: he felt older, like a mentor now. "You got a dead man elected. You were just narrowly beat for getting your man voted as the Democratic Presidential Nominee. You became both the Communications Director and the Press Secretary rolled into one. I don't believe that there is anything that you can't do if you just set your mind to it, Will Bailey."

"And you aren't just saying that because you're taking my job and you want me out of this office, are you?" Will joked.

Both men stood up. Sam's voice was teasing as he said, "Now, why would I do a thing like that?" He shook Will's hand and said, "I truly believe that you're going to be a Congressman someday."

Will smiled. "At the end of the day, there are no better hands to leave the White House in." He waved his hands towards him, as if passing him the baton.

Sam collected his jacket as Will asked him, "Want to go watch the packing madness of the bullpen and get hit with more nostalgia?"

Sam didn't know if he could take any more of the present day blending in with his old memories of the glory days, but then, "Sure. I was always a glutton for punishment." The new Communications Director clapped a hand against the back of the almost-resigned current Communications Director. "Let's go see it all again."

**Thanks for reading! Review?**


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